


You Wish

by schoononover



Category: Labyrinth (1986)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Child Sarah, Pre-Series
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-31
Updated: 2018-07-30
Packaged: 2018-08-12 07:12:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7925452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/schoononover/pseuds/schoononover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It wasn’t as though he hadn’t seen it coming, truth be told. Somehow the labyrinth always managed to show him the events that brought wish-away children to him, so the stories could be told; this was how he left the book in the real world, where generation after generation read through the pages, eager to soak up the story until they managed to have their wish granted. And then they would run the labyrinth, in keeping with the agreement, and time and again they would make it to the end just that much too late, and have to return to face the consequences of their wish. For wishes were more tangible than one could ever imagine. And therein was the game, and the lesson; be careful what you wish for, lest the Goblin King take away that which you love most. In all the times he’d had a child wished to him, he’d never seen a champion emerge victorious. Neither had he seen a child without a champion.</p>
<p>Rating just in case.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. All Things Have a Beginning

It wasn’t as though he hadn’t seen it coming, truth be told. Somehow the labyrinth always managed to show him the events that brought wish-away children to him, so the stories could be told; this was how he left the book in the real world, where generation after generation read through the pages, eager to soak up the story until they managed to have their wish granted. And then they would run the labyrinth, in keeping with the agreement, and time and again they would make it to the end just that much too late, and have to return to face the consequences of their wish. For wishes were more tangible than one could ever imagine. And therein was the game, and the lesson; be careful what you wish for, lest the Goblin King take away that which you love most. In all the times he’d had a child wished to him, he’d never seen a champion emerge victorious. Neither had he seen a child without a champion.

As an orb floated to him, he watched with the same boredom as the next wish appeared within. She was a small thing, copper-brown hair framing a large pair of green eyes. They flashed, and he felt the strange tug of magic come from the vision. He hummed in thought at that, and filed it away for later as he watched. She looked sad, he thought, while her tiny fingers traced over the words as she read in the shade of a tree. She flinched and looked up every so often, though at what he could not tell unless he extended the spell. Regardless, she had the book, which meant that her life was the crux around which the next tale would fashion itself.

* * *

 

Sarah looked up from where she was studiously avoiding the situation around her by reading through her book. It was the only memento she had of her mother, and she flinched back and pulled it closer to her every time Layton kicked that ball toward her. He was working so hard to torture her, she was sure, because the ten-year-old was nowhere near happy that he had to spend time with six-year-old Sarah the Bookworm. She remembered the last time, when he had stolen her book from her and tried to tear it apart, and her screams had been the only thing that got her father to come to her rescue. Ever since her mother had walked out on them, he had waited for her to come back, a strange shell of his former self, but he had been kind and loving to her still. Until the letter came; the letter that informed them that she had been killed when a drunk boyfriend had crashed into the concrete of a highway underpass. That was the day he changed, and kept reminding her that her mother left her, in the hopes of trying to get her to warm up to the number of new girlfriends that suddenly walked into his life. It was also the day she found the book, sitting in the middle of her bed, and her father was unable to explain it, somehow coming up with the idea that it was once her mother’s. And she clung to that book, to the childish hope that her mother loved her, and that she would come back one day.

Two years on, and Sarah knew better now. And her father knew that Layton hated her, but did nothing beyond stopping the worst of the bullying. It kept her from getting bruises, she guessed, but her dolls and her dress up clothes were no longer safe when her dad’s girlfriend and Layton moved in with them. She slept with her book cradled to her chest every night along with a figurine of the goblin king she’d been given for her birthday, afraid that Layton would come in and take them away in the night. He ragged on her almost constantly, and she hid in her room as often as she could, lost in the world of _The Labyrinth_. Sometimes she thought she could be the heroine, but she was afraid of making her wish, afraid that if she did the Goblin King would really come and take her away with him, and that she’d never get to see her father again. Not that she saw him much now, when he was always working and leaving Marcy to do her best getting his daughter to come out of her shell. She tried, Sarah knew, and she knew that Marcy genuinely held affection for her. That was the reason Layton hated her so; she’d become the baby, and the only child hated having the attention taken from himself.

They’d barely managed it for two weeks, before he cornered her on the landing at the top of the stairs. Marcy had called them down for dinner, and Sarah had been about to take that first step down when she felt him grab her shoulders.

“Lay—” the word was cut off when she felt him shove her, and the next she knew she was tumbling around and around, and she knew she screamed. She landed, and shrieked at the blinding pain in her right arm.

“Sarah?” Marcy was running to the stairs, and saw the little form crumpled at the bottom. “Oh my God! Sarah!” Being lifted into the air only made her scream again as her arm jostled, and before she knew what was happening she was whisked out the back door, Marcy yelling over her shoulder for Layton to turn the oven off, and she loaded Sarah into the car as gently as she could. Layton went to their neighbor’s house to play with his friend as Marcy sped them to the emergency room, calling Sarah’s father on the way.

He got there just before the doctors whisked her away to the x-ray machines, and he held her as they looked at the x-rays, and as the doctor reset her bone. She screamed again at that, but then they were putting her arm in a cast and telling her father not to get it wet, and they put a needle in her arm that made her feel fuzzy.

Layton never got in trouble for it, as he had the chance to make up his story and tell them she tripped and fell while she was still asleep from the drugs. He whined and yelled at her when she tried to tell them he pushed her, and her father told her that lying was bad, Sarah. But she said she wasn’t lying, and it turned into a big fuss and Layton stormed out of her room yelling about how he hated her anyway and she was always trying to get him in trouble. It was when she wanted to hold her book that they found it was missing.

* * *

“Give it back!”

She jumped up for the book, her good arm making the best attempt to grab it from him as she could get. He just pushed her, and she cried out as it jarred her arm.

“Why do you even like this stupid book, anyway?” He grumbled. “It’s the _worst_ story I’ve ever heard! Wishing away your problems? What a joke!”

~*~*~

The orb glowed from where it sat next to his throne, and Jareth and his goblins perked up. Apparently it was going to happen tonight. He watched the events unfold, as the little owner of the book tried to get it back from a larger boy.

~*~*~

“It’s not a joke! Wishes have power, even if you don’t believe it.” She tried to get the book, and barely had her fingers on it when he retorted.

“If they’re so powerful, then I wish the Goblin King would take you away right _now_!” Her eyes went wide with fear. He’d voiced the little wish in the back of her mind that she’d been afraid to say; she wished the Goblin King would come and take her, too. But she’d never tell him that. She grabbed the book back, just in time for the lights to flicker and then go out.

The fear hit her then, when she saw the look of terror on Layton’s face, followed by a strange sense of wonder. It quickly returned to fear when the windows rattled and then blew open, and they were both face-to-face with the Goblin King himself. Sarah was afraid, then, but she could do nothing but stare at the man who looked at her with the most bemused expression. And then she felt the strangest sensation, and she was toppling into a strange stone room she couldn’t recognize. She cried out when the landing jarred her broken arm, and lay on the floor sobbing in pain. Half a moment later, and the king himself came over to her, thinking she was crying because she was afraid of being there.

“Come now, little Sarah. We’ll see how your champion reacts to your disappearing, shall we?” He lifted her, and the orb in his hand grew until they could both watch it.

_“Where—are you really the Goblin King?”_

_“Yes, I am. And I’ve come to claim the child you wished away.”_

_“You mean… Sarah’s gone?” She shrank into the man holding him as she saw the look on Layton’s face. He seemed… hopeful._

_“Yes. But if you would like her back,” a wave, and he held another orb out to Layton, “you could always go through the labyrinth to retrieve her.”_

_“And if I don’t?” he asked. Jareth looked at the boy, obviously in shock._

_“Then I shall keep her in my kingdom forever, and you will not be able to see her again.” The boy blinked for a minute, before a smile erupted onto his face._

_“Cool!” He handed the orb back to Jareth, who stood there staring at it for a long moment._

_“You… don’t want to run the labyrinth?”_

_“Nope. I don’t want her back.”_

Sarah knew that the Jareth in the orb probably flinched just as much as the one holding her did, as the orb before them shattered, and she buried her face into his jacket and sobbed. He looked down at the child he was holding, not quite sure how to deal with the fact that for the first time in history, a child had been wished away, and the wisher had not become a champion to try and win her back. It was then he noticed the strange pink _thing_ on her arm, and moved to touch it. She flinched when he moved her arm wrong, a pained sob escaping her. Scenes flooded his vision then, of the older boy shoving her, of her tumbling down the flight of stairs with a sickening crunch, of the little body crumpled on the floor.

“What…?”

“I always knew he didn’t want me there.” She seemed to almost realize something, and she gasped, squirming from his arms and looking around. “W-where…” She started crying, every so often getting a hiccup as she kept searching for something that wasn’t to be found. Finally, he saw the flash of red leather, and she scooped the item in question into her chest, sobbing into it. The spark of magic, the feeling that something was quite amiss with the girl, startled through him again.

Here he stood, before the first child to be wished to him who didn’t have a champion, the first child to be truly unwanted, and yet all he could think of was the strange twinge of magic that sparked in her. He scooped her up again, and bore with it as she sobbed into his chest. Here was a child who had truly been abandoned, who had more of a gift than she could ever know hidden deep beneath the surface. The only question was: what to do with her?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! This was originally a one-shot, but some very wonderful people and a real stroke of inspiration made this story take wing.
> 
> On another note: I did mention I own only Layton and Marcy, right? Ah, good.


	2. Thirteen Hours

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Because even though there's no champion, the next thirteen hours are filled with unexpected twists and turns. And Jareth is admittedly not a total ass.

It was obvious to him that he couldn’t just make her into a goblin as he normally did—not after the magic cast on her went completely wrong and burst through the room in an explosion of glitter. He may have liked it just as much as the next person, but not when it flew like shrapnel into his eyes, leaving him swearing in a language unknown to the child in his arms and doing his very best not to drop her. At least the healing spell he’d tried first worked, he thought, meaning she wasn’t immune to his magic—though obviously, her being in the labyrinth at all was testament to that. When he finally managed to get all of the damnable dust out, he frowned down at her. Human children didn’t belong in his labyrinth. Then again, human children normally turned into goblins on demand.

And there it was again, the little tendril of magic snaking out around her; Jareth couldn’t quite tell if it was the book (and by extension, the labyrinth) or the girl, though neither boded quite well for his current predicament. If it was the girl, then she had some strange family connection to the land; if it was the labyrinth, well… that was a whole new problem he refused to think about.

“Goblin King?” she asked, breaking him from his reverie. He just pulled her up so she didn’t have to crane her neck.

“Yes, little Sarah?” She seemed to think about her words carefully.

“So… if I don’t have a runner…” she paused again. “…does that mean I can’t go home?” He wasn’t quite sure how to read the expression on her face, but she just looked down at the book in her hands and then back up to him, waiting expectantly for his answer.

“I’m… I’m afraid so.” He saw some of the sadness in her green eyes, but something else floated there… understanding, perhaps? But that couldn’t be right. His newest wish-child (he could say wish-away, but it was easier to think of them as wish-children when they were in front of him and likely to cry) was too young to have been able to fully grasp what was written in her prized possession. Wasn’t she?

She looked back down at the book. “Does that mean I’m going to be turned into a goblin?” He blinked for a moment, but then a slightly bitter smirk played over his lips.

“You would have.” He shrugged, “If the magic worked like it was supposed to. For now, I guess, you’ll just have to deal with being a little girl surrounded by strange magic.” She nodded, again seeming to understand far too much for her whole six years of age.

“And my daddy…” Jareth saw the tears in her eyes, but she shook her head and looked back up at him. “…what will he do?” Just as she said that, the niggling sensation of some sort of summons called to him. It was from the human world, no less.

“I think we may just find out.”

 

* * *

 

Robert was pacing, home early from work with the news that his daughter was missing and the worst sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. The worst part was the story, of little Layton saying he had made a wish to the Goblin King, and the monster had come in and taken his daughter. He was certain that either a man broke in and stole his child, or Layton was covering for Sarah while she ran away. He hoped it was the second; she’d be back by the night, crying and saying she was sorry, then, sorry that she left and made everyone worry. If he let himself really think about it, he knew he’d just work himself into a panic. And that wouldn’t do, since Marcy was already so distraught.

He ran his hands through his hair, his mind going again to Sarah’s book and the Goblin King, and Layton’s pathetic cover story. “Goblin King, huh. Well I wish I could just meet this… thing, then.” He sank down onto the sofa and put his head in his hands. He started when a flash of lightning cracked outside the door, the power in the house getting cut with it; Layton’s scream was muffled from the upstairs.

“How rude we are, for someone who seems to be so worried about his child.” He heard the silky voice and got up, spinning around to find the bastard responsible for Sarah’s disappearance.

“Where is she?” he hissed.

“Calm yourself,” the voice drawled, and he turned to be face to face with Jareth himself, exactly as his daughter’s book described, and yet somehow much more ethereal and foreboding. “You only have that little whelp upstairs to blame for losing that which should be most precious to you. Not that you seem to want to protect her from those who would do her harm.” Robert noticed the look of disdain he was being given, and bristled at the thought that this… man, if he could be called that… would look down on him as though he wasn’t the one stealing children.

“Bring her back.” He knew the grief passed over his face, but the Goblin King did not even flinch.

“You have read her the book; you know that I cannot.”

“She is supposed to have a champion, someone to run—”

“Her would-be champion _refused_ , which immediately forfeit the challenge! Would you have me break the laws of my people, laws that have been set in place since before your ancestors were born, just so you could look your child in the eyes and tell her not to lie the next time that imp of a boy decides to hurt her, when it could be well worse than pushing her down the stairs? No, I am many things, but I am not cruel enough to do that. I stood back and watched when her own wish went through her head, but only because she never voiced it. If she had only but asked, I would have gladly spirited her away ages ago, the first child to ever wish herself into my care.” Robert stared at him, slack-jawed, unsure of what to say. “As it is, she’s the first child whose champion refused to run.”

“Please…”

“Even if you run, the labyrinth will not yield.” The king’s eyes looked almost sad. “I am truly sorry, but there is nothing that you can do.” He tilted his head then, eyes surveying the increasingly distraught father before him. A flick of the wrist, and a crystalline orb was between his fingers. He held it out to Robert, who immediately took it into his hand and stared into it. He saw his daughter smile back at him, but when he looked back up the man in the room was gone. He started, and looked around to find nothing but an owl sitting upon the windowsill.

_Do not think me completely heartless. It is, perhaps, bending the rules ever so slightly, but I will allow you to watch her growth in your dreams, so long as you wish it. And you_ must _make the wish aloud. But my magic does not last forever in this world, so use your wishes wisely. I do not know when they will run out._

The owl took wing, and was gone from the windowsill within a moment, and Robert was left with nothing but the image of Sarah that slowly faded from the orb.

 

* * *

 

Jareth sat atop his balcony with his newest addition, still trying to puzzle out what to do with her. He still couldn’t place the magic he felt on her, despite prodding it with his own senses when it flared up. He managed to get her to fall asleep on the chaise, while he sat propped on the railing himself. The labyrinth was still within its thirteen hours in which it was startlingly unfamiliar to its king—well, mostly. It was still his, and he could still feel all of the shifts and passages that led between the outermost fields and his castle. And yet the landscape was shifted, once-green trees twisted and black, their branches holding a Halloween-esque quality to them. He watched as a pair of bats—most likely some of his owls—flitted from one section to the next, probably startled by some of his goblins moving through the area. Goblin City itself was a macabre affair much like a haunted attraction, the road to the castle a twisting hall of mirrors into the boy Layton’s soul.

A quick glance at the sleeping child and a spell to keep her from wandering or falling from the balcony, and he took himself over the ledge and flickered from sight, reappearing at the start of the road. He walked, and saw the boy’s innermost thoughts as Layton would have seen them, the small child held close in his mother’s arms, a happy smile on his infuriating face. He watched the progression as Sarah entered their life, and the boy’s mother moved to hug her instead, leaving the boy alone and crying. He saw the mother and father with Sarah in the final mirror, and noticed the lack of his reflection to juxtapose itself into the image. Clearly, it was meant to show the boy that bringing her back would mean that she would take his place, and he would not have a family—probably his innermost fear. Jareth frowned at that, looking to the side to again see Layton alone and crying. When he spun around, the mirrors had followed him as they would the child, and every image he saw was the solitary Layton or the happy family without him. He flitted to the sky above the labyrinth again, sitting seemingly on nothing as he surveyed it. Another three hours, and it would revert to its non-runner state. Until then, he would see the traps woven to snare the boy, to keep him from winning or dissuade him from trying (if he had decided to run).

He had never seen the landscape so frightening and vicious when the wisher was a child, meaning the labyrinth itself deemed it necessary to be particularly vicious. Back among Goblin City, he noted that his first footfall on the ground brought magic surging up from the earth itself, and he closed his eyes until it subsided. Looking down, he noted that he was in his armor, though it looked much more foreboding, as though he were the king of Hades himself come to devour the missing runner; a few of his goblins poked their heads around the corner to look at him, and he noted that they too had larger, more formidable horns and teeth. If he didn’t know any better, he would have thought a few demons had stepped into his land. But the wards were still up beyond the fields and their encircling forest, at the barrier of his lands.

One of the goblins came over, a small thing that was most likely still a child itself, and he felt its little claws on his calf when its still-large eyes looked up at him. “Kingy scary…” It seemed to smile, though, and he rolled his eyes at its strange words.

“Yes, I _am_ scary.” He smiled, and felt the sharp points of canines much longer than usual. And then he flicked his gaze around once more and flitted to wander along the tops of the walls, noting the greater number of cleaners, and the more vicious looks of the denizens of his realm. He meandered until he felt the tug of magic and the clock struck thirteen hours. The world went topsy-turvy while everything shifted, and he groaned before returning to the balcony. This would no doubt wake the child. She whimpered behind him when he appeared, but he turned to see her still sleeping on the chaise. So he watched as the sky lightened, Goblin City’s roofs returning to their usual thatch and occasional brown terracotta. The tree trunks faded to brown and their leaves sprang back as the spring breeze once again blew the scents of the blossoms from his garden to him. Seeing his labyrinth restored to its usual level of ever-shifting beauty, Jareth smiled and lounged again on the balcony railing.

He still had no idea what to do with Sarah. His second attempt at the transformation spell, shortly after she had fallen asleep, had proved as ineffective as the first, though had not been as explosive. The source of the magic that kept her from changing had _definitely_ been his book, though. But… how? Thinking about it had brought him nothing but a headache, as he thought it no doubt had something to do with the labyrinth itself. Had it forged some sort of connection with her? She certainly made hundreds of different subconscious and conscious internal wishes to be brought to his lands—though as he had told her father, he was kind enough to let her stay unless the wish was uttered aloud. How was he to know she wouldn’t be the one making it?

Grumbling to himself, he moved her to a small bed he caused to appear in his room—he didn’t trust the goblins with her, and didn’t trust her not to wander around the castle while he rested—and then curled himself into his own bed. He doubted that his thoughts of how to rectify the situation would allow sleep, but he determined that he had in fact drifted off because a strange movement woke him. Looking over, he saw her small form crawl under his blankets so she could cuddle into his chest. He felt worry niggle into his mind, but as far as he could tell she was uninjured.

“Are you alright, little one?” He ran a hand over her hair, as she shivered and sobbed a bit.

She sniffled, “I had a bad dream.” And then it came crawling from her ever so reluctantly, strange flashes of images that would no doubt frighten a small human child. He washed them away with half of a thought.

“Alright. It won’t haunt you anymore, little one.” A small handkerchief appeared for him, and he held it to her so she could wipe her face. Large, teary eyes looked at him for a long moment, almost seeming to weigh her options.

“Is… is it okay if I stay here?” she asked, voice trailing off to be almost inaudible by the end of it. He let her think he was mulling it over for half a second before nodding his approval, and she hugged up against him again. When he finally fell asleep for the second time, she’d managed to nestle her head in his shoulder, and his arm wrapped around her while her little fingers clutched his shirt. Deciding what to do with her and her strange magic could wait until later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone for all of the support for this story!! The first chapter was meant to be a standalone written in the middle of dissertation hell, and I forgot that I'd written a bit of a continuation (along with many other parts of my summer). So I hope you enjoyed it! And I'll do my best to be more efficient with further updates!!


	3. Riddle Me This

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Because in a world of goblins and oubliettes and other nasties, what could go wrong?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's back!! I'm reeeeeeeeeeally sorry for anyone who's been waiting (thank you for sticking with me!!). I've had this sitting around for a while, but have not yet figured out exactly how to proceed. So here's what I've got, and maybe it'll get my ideas flowing again.
> 
> And again, I don't own the characters... most of them, anyway.

Jareth woke to find his tiny ward nowhere in his room, and the door to the corridor cracked open. But he could have sworn he locked it… magically. He frowned and reached out to find her, pinging off of that strange twist of magic in her and almost instantly transporting himself to where his renegade child had wandered. He found her playing with one of his goblins in a field, dancing around in circles with it as it sang a cheerful song. The goblin finally spotted him and practically fell over on itself, tripping and taking Sarah down with it. She was immediately up and asking if it was okay, still completely oblivious to the man behind her.

“M-majesty!” The little creature bowed as best it could while being fussed over by a child, which caused said child to look over and instantly freeze with quite the deer-in-the-headlights look.

“Hello, Kip. I see you’ve met our newest resident.” Kip nodded, seeming to relax as Jareth leveled a smile at him. His eyes moved to Sarah, who shrank back toward Kip under his gaze. “Sarah, dear.” He walked slowly in her direction, afraid of spooking her, and knelt down when he wasn’t far away, holding his hand out toward her. “It was good to see you smiling, my little one.” She looked from him to Kip and back and took his hand when the little goblin nudged her, her other hand gripping Kip’s. His other hand stroked her hair, and he felt her flinch at the first contact. It made him wonder, with a brief spark of agitation, if she hadn’t been abused in some way. Or was she simply afraid of him now that reality was truly setting in?

“I’m sorry I left…” But he ruffled her hair again, and she looked up at him with something other than fear.

“Just promise not to go wandering the Labyrinth alone while I’m asleep, alright? It’s a lot more dangerous, especially for little girls, when Kip isn’t here to make sure they don’t get hurt. Right, Kip?” The goblin straightened and nodded furiously.

“Y-yes, majesty! Kip just wanted to help Sarah to smile. She looked really sad.”

“Did you now?” and Jareth pulled Sarah up into his arms, motioning with his head for Kip to walk with them as he walked back toward the castle.

“I miss my daddy.” He felt a pang in his chest at that, which in itself probably wasn’t all that unusual.

“I know, precious, I know. But even if I could wish it, I am unable to return you to him.” His words rang true, much as it pained him to take away any hopes little Sarah had to return to her father. But the labyrinth always called her children home, and he was getting some sort of feeling she was more a child of his kingdom than even he could comprehend. He thought about it, that strange niggling sensation hitting him again and calling out to long-forgotten memories.

He got Kip and Sarah into the dining hall, scrunching his nose at the disarray until the horde of palace goblins cleared enough space near his seat for two more. They then proceeded to devolve back into their usual goblin chaos, Jareth wondering yet again how they managed to do it. They stayed long enough for Sarah and Kip to satisfy their hunger (Kip was completely awestruck by the entire affair), and then Jareth whisked her off into the gardens, watching as Sarah and Kip returned to their jovial playing. Eventually, the two grew tired and returned to where Jareth lounged in the grass, Sarah leaning against his waist and adjusting his arm so she could fall asleep against him. Well, then… it seemed the labyrinth found him quite the shameless little girl.

He heard the crunch of boots on one of the garden’s gravel pathways and looked up to see his uncle coming his way. His gaze moved to Sarah and gave way to something akin to sadness and confusion. “Jareth…”

“Uncle, this is quite the surprise visit.” And it was; his uncle had not come to see him since… well, for a long while. It immediately raised his suspicions and made him worry that something was wrong. “What is the matter?”

“I came here because there was a strange play of magic that sparked in your land, and I wasn’t quite certain where it came from.” His gaze was quite sympathetic as he looked over his nephew. “I don’t know how to say this kindly, but… You do know what happens to children who don’t turn into goblins here, right?”

“I’m quite aware,” he responded, casting a rather dark glance at their visitor. Sarah still slept, fortunately.

“So why haven’t you changed her, then?”

Jareth snorted. “As if I haven’t tried. The first time, the magical backlash nearly slammed me through a wall and brought me to the verge of hating glitter.”

“Perish the thought,” his uncle joked.

“This is serious! I’ve tried a few more times since then, and I’ve gotten nothing save for this strange tug of magic and the labyrinth’s own amusement. This is her doing, somehow.”

His uncle’s eyes lit up at the thought. “You mean your labyrinth is doing this?”

“I think so, though it feels like there’s something I’m missing.”

“Interesting.” He leaned down to look over Sarah’s sleeping figure and then chuckled. “For the Goblin King had fallen in love with the girl, indeed.”

“What?” But his uncle just stood and smiled down at him.

“It appears your predecessor may have left you some sort of gift after all, nephew mine.” Jareth furrowed his brow in confusion but received no further guidance. Joran always behaved in that manner, leaving cryptic clues for others to piece together later; without his mother, Jareth had learned all these behaviors from him as a boy. He still hated it when Joran did it.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean you should search the archives. It may provide you with the first clue to your little puzzle.” He smirked at Jareth, who then rolled his eyes.

“Why do I have a bad feeling about this?”

“Probably because you should.” Joran picked up Sarah, careful not to wake her, and started walking back toward the castle. “Now then, Jareth. Let’s go find your new addition a nice place to call her own, shall we? Or were you planning on keeping her bedroom merged with yours forever?”


	4. Who Are You?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who is Phinean, for that matter? And why does everyone seem to have disappeared?
> 
> Okay, maybe it's not that dramatic. But still.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters in two days? Inspiration must have hit. Let's hope it lasts!
> 
> Again, please note that canon characters are not mine to claim.

“What if we built a room leading off of mine until she’s big enough to be comfortable on her own, uncle?” Jareth realized just a moment too late how pathetic that sounded, especially coming from his own mouth. Here he was, the Goblin King himself turned to a pile of mush by that little girl’s hands.

Joran laughed. “You are quite hopeless, you know that? But with all of your goblins I can understand your concern.”

“Look, the last time I left them unattended with a human they burned half my castle to the ground. It reeked of bog for weeks until we could get everything sealed up again.”

“Why do you think I never visited?” Joran asked. He paused and looked into his nephew’s eyes. They’d been debating the particulars of Sarah’s room for nearly two hours while Jareth avoided the tomes and papers scattered about his library. Joran got the distinct impression the goblins had come through and wrecked the place recently and without their master’s knowledge, if the twitch of his fingers and the tic in his jaw proved any indication.

Finally, Jareth broke his peace. Magic swirled around them, the books righting themselves, paper and ink floating back to their intended places. Joran tweaked a few sets so they sat in front of his nephew.

“Take a browse through these while I go check on Sarah. They might prove useful.”

Jareth watched him disappear from the room and browsed the sheets. They were the papers he’d read from his predecessor when he’d taken over the kingdom. Particular notes on wish-children and the families they’d gone to, rules and loopholes in case something unexpected happened. The best way to bog the goblins without getting the stench in one’s hair—it also turned out to be the document containing directions on how to _clean_ the bog. None of this information was new to him. He sighed and sent a puff of magic out on the wind.

The magic returned, niggling at him to turn one of the blank pages over. He did, and it caused a sharp inhale of breath. On the back he found a portrait, one he’d stumbled upon in the Hall of Kings. This one, however, included a woman—an elven woman. Her eyes looked sad even as they twinkled in the light captured by the painter’s brush. Her hands, though resting lightly on the king’s shoulders, showed a strange amount of tension.

She looked just like Sarah.

“For he’d fallen in love indeed,” Jareth breathed. He scrabbled to find a date on it and, upon finding none, strode from the room. All portraits in the Hall of Kings were dated on the back and signed by their creator. He’d found as a boy that most had been painted by a fellow named Phinean, though rumor had it he’d been missing for an age. Jareth pulled the life-size portrait from the wall and checked—dated 457, signed by one Phinean with great thanks to the queen for her patronage. He replaced it and frowned, scrutinizing the two images.

Something felt off about them, and the closer he looked at the larger image the less he liked. He scratched at the paint where the woman should be with his nail, but found it magically sealed to prevent damage. They must have done that when he was a child… or Phinean was as gifted with magic as he was with a brush. He tried all manner of spells to try and gaze through the layers of paint to determine if the woman might be hiding underneath.

“Perhaps you should change the light,” he heard suggested from behind him. Jareth spun to see his uncle standing behind him. He frowned again, knowing his uncle continued to hold something back.

“Any specific—” he stopped when Joran himself adjusted the light in the room, giving the world different shades of blue and purple. Vibrant purple eyes glittered back at them from a very adult Sarah’s face. A near replica of the king’s amulet hung from her chest, a delicate vine pattern on her finger marking their union. She stood in her splendor, a queen lost to time, and watched them mournfully as if knowing the fate that awaited her.

“Imris,” Joran said. “The Goblin Queen, for a time.”

“Did she die?” Jareth asked.

“No. She disappeared.”

“And somehow she’s related to Sarah.”

Her blood might explain why the labyrinth called to the child’s blood. Pacts rewritten during this time banned him from changing elves into goblins. Rather, any child wished away would be reared in one of the Underground’s many kingdoms, to be determined by the council and approved by the Goblin King. He needed to look through the treaties again, but he didn’t remember reading anything about mixed-blood children beyond a one-fourth ratio in either direction.

“When did she disappear?” he asked.

“Shortly after you were born,” Joran replied slowly. Jareth chewed this over, thinking of everything and nothing all at once. He didn’t want to jump to any conclusions about this Imris before he had more of the picture. But he knew one place he might pick up some more clues.

“Can you watch Sarah for a little while?”

“Of course,” Joran replied. He smiled and winked at his nephew. “I’ll try and keep the villagers from rioting or burning down half the castle while you’re gone.”

“Thanks, uncle.”

With that, Jareth spun on his heel and strode down the hall, his formidable regalia from Layton’s dream appearing with a thought. He dusted some black glitter from his cape and called up an orb. It was time to go see how a certain man’s dreams fared.

 

~*~

Robert looked around at the all-encompassing darkness. He didn’t know where he’d woken up, but he knew he had to find his daughter. He turned inside the endless black, his heart pounding, a cold sweat slowly breaking out over his skin. He’d lost her, somewhere beyond time and memory, and he had to get her back. He couldn’t lose another.

He screamed for her. He screamed for his dead wife. He screamed in the hopes someone in the vast darkness would answer.

“She’s safe,” came the whisper. Robert wheeled around, fist raised to punch this unseen man with a familiar, threatening voice. Long, slender fingers wrapped around his fist and held it ever so gently. He felt the force hidden behind it, masked for the time being in a strange sort of sincerity.

“Liar!” he howled. But the hand holding his fist just squeezed lightly, making him hiss at the pain that jabbed through his bones. For the first time, he took in the imposing visage before him, black armor sharper and more threatening in the dark. He finally caved. “You’ve taken my daughter. What more do you want from me?”

The Goblin King held a portrait out toward him. “Recognize her?” he asked. Robert looked up at him, confused, before he turned back to the paper. It looked like Sarah, but older. Or…

“My wife?” Yes, he thought. She stared back at him, eyes full of life he’d never be able to see. He thought she looked sad, but he couldn’t tell.

“And where—“

“She died. Her grandmother lives in upstate New York.” He looked up at the Goblin King. “Why? Why do you have a picture of her? Why are you here asking me about this?”

“Because she might not be dead.”

Jareth replied without thinking. He had no proof, no evidence to tell this lonely man his wife could be alive. For all he knew, she had been in the accident that killed her. But, she might also be a centuries-old elf who could no longer support herself outside of the Underground, or who had run into trouble courtesy of the king she’d abandoned.

Robert’s breath caught in his chest. She could be alive? But he’d seen the pictures. There was no way… unless she had magic like the creature before him, magic she hadn’t told him about.

“Do you remember her grandmother’s name?”

“Elize Arnett.” The Goblin King turned to go, but Robert reached out and grabbed his arm. Jareth looked down, surprised at the gall of this human. “Please.” Robert’s gaze held the intensity of his desperation, fueled by the loneliness and the nightmare. “If she’s alive… tell her I’m sorry for whatever I did that made her leave. And that I miss her. Tell Sarah, too.”

“If I can,” Jareth conceded. He wondered if this softness came from the emotions trickling through Robert’s dreams into him. Dreams may have been another of his domains, but the increased abilities brought heightened sensations and emotions. He walked a dangerous line at times. He gingerly extracted his wrist from Robert’s grip and turned away, sending the man into a happier memory out of some strange sense of remorse.

 

~*~*~*~

Jareth woke to tugging at his hair from little fingers. It took him a moment to realize someone was braiding his hair. “Sarah, you better not have knotted it.”

“She’s doing a better job than you ever could.” Jareth opened his eyes to the smirk his uncle levelled at him.

“You’re hilarious.” He sat up, and Sarah put up a small protest until he bent his head to the left for her. “Better, your majesty?” he asked snarkily.

“Thank you!”

Joran snorted in amusement. Jareth levelled him with a flat stare for a moment, and then turned to the orb in his hand. Images from Robert’s dream danced through it, a spitting image of Imris with vibrant emerald eyes coming into focus before it suddenly shifted to smoke. He guessed Robert must be waking up.

“You got what information you needed?” Joran asked.

“Perhaps. Or perhaps the two women aren’t what they seem.” He hissed when Sarah pulled his hair too hard. She flinched back, and then ran her hand gently through the surrounding strands.

“Sorry.”

“He’s fine,” Joran assured her. “So what will you do next?” he asked Jareth.

“Find the grandmother, do some digging through the family trees in the archives…” he sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Since you’re on the council I don’t think I have to inform them of the potential dilemma if she has elven blood.”

“Correct. I’ve done that already.”

“Good.” He patted Sarah on the head and stood, stretching the kinks out of his back and taking in the state of his hair. It had gotten so crimped he could have easily passed for a member of a hair band. He looked down at his uncle and raised a brow. “So… ever been to New York?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, please let me know what you think~
> 
> And a special shout out to anyone who's been following this since day 1 (year 1??). You inspired me to continue, and now we've hit chapter 4. Hopefully it won't take another two years for chapter 6. <3


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